


toradol and bean water

by limia



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Be gentle, Cop Michael, F/F, Hospitals, Nurse Gabriel, this is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limia/pseuds/limia
Summary: Being hospitalized sucks when you can't sit still, honestly.





	toradol and bean water

**Author's Note:**

> au where gabby is a nurse (is that really au tho) and michael is a cop
> 
> catch me writing michael ooc and blaming it on medication ;)

The hospital is oddly active for two in the morning, Michael notes. Shuffling through the sterile white halls with her IV pole for stability, she can't believe she can't sleep when she's set to be released in five hours.

 

Figures.

 

Her side aches with every step, but the drip of Toradol flowing steadily through her veins was making it tolerable. Tolerable _enough_ , at least, to last her until she makes her way to the hospital cafeteria, giving small nods to every doctor and patient she passed along the way; they all looked exhausted, and she imagined she looked rather similar.

 

It'd been almost two weeks since she'd been shot, spending the first few days floating in and out of consciousness. She barely remembers how it happened to begin with, some kind of patrol gone wrong - Uriel hadn't been specific, wanting her to 'rest up' before worrying about work again.

 

Unfortunately for her, she wasn't that great at 'resting up'. She was prone to being antsy, nothing to do in her room except watch late night infomercials at this point; she needed to do _something._ And so she was here, hovering awkwardly in the hospital cafeteria, peering around - several tired looking doctors and nurses were here as well, nursing their cups while they quietly lost themselves into their phones.

 

Michael had honestly thought she had it bad- late night shifts while at the precinct, paperwork until she felt like she was going to pass out. Doctors must have had it even worse, having to do surgeries and diagnoses and death calls on less sleep than Michael had ever had to deal with during a patrol.

 

Exhaling quietly, she shuffles over towards the lone cafeteria worker, asking where she can get a cup of coffee.

 

"I could get you a cup, if you'd like," says a voice next to her, and she nearly jumps a foot, not even realizing she'd been snuck up on. When she looks, she realizes she recognizes the woman from around the hospital; a nurse dressed in light blue scrubs, her pale strawberry blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail, a small smile on her lips.

 

"Oh," Michael starts, looking awkwardly between the nurse and the worker, backing up slightly to let the nurse ahead of her. "S-sure, thank you."

 

"Of course!" the woman chirps, before asking for two coffees, digging around in her scrubs for her wallet. "It's nice to see you up and about. I remember when you came in you looked like you got hit by a truck!" she says with a laugh, turning to Michael.

 

Michael's face heats, squeezing around the IV pole as she shifts. "Well I _did_ get shot. Maybe a little better than being hit by a truck," she says, watching as the nurse takes the two coffees that had just been passed over the counter, nodding to a small table near them.

 

"Mind if I join you? I'm off the clock until six. No real point in going home now," the nurse hums, smiling softly when Michael nods, following her to the table. She pulls out Michael's chair for her with a small ' _Don't strain yourself!_ ' before sitting down across from her, taking the lid off her own coffee and taking a deep breath. " _Ahhh~_ Nothing like shitty coffee this late," she says, causing Michael to snort softly.

 

"I guess it's like camping. Everything tastes better in a desperate situation," Michael says, tugging out two packets of sugar from the small sugar caddie on the table, dumping them into her coffee unceremoniously. "I'm guessing you're not gonna get in trouble for talking to patients off the clock?" she questions, sipping her coffee slowly - the nurse hadn't lied; something about coffee this late was nice, her whole body starting to warm as it flows through her.

 

The nurse laughs, waving her hand. "You watch too many hospital shows, there's nothing wrong with chatting. I'm Gabriel, by the way - I keep forgetting I took my nametag off," she says, watching as Michael sinks into her chair after taking a swig of her coffee, feeling more relaxed than she had in her own hospital bed. "You miserable in that room?" she asks.

 

Michael blinks, her cheeks warming. "Not that it's the hospital's fault or anything. I hate just sitting around doing _nothing_. My partner says I'm a workaholic, but I just get antsy. Even at home I have trouble relaxing if I haven't exhausted myself." She wasn't sure if it was the drugs talking, here - she didn't normally indulge strangers with her life like this. Gabriel was easy to talk to, at least; her presence wasn't quite as intimidating as the other doctors in the hospital.

 

The nurse nods, giving a smile. "Yeah, I understand. Maybe that's why I took up nursing, never really run out of things to do, you know? Or maybe that's my excuse for spending my free time drinking!" she says with a laugh, which makes Michael's eyebrows shoot up. Gabriel pauses, stammering. "N-not on the job, of course! I just like going to the tavern down the road with friends after work!" she clarifies.

 

Michael can’t help but laugh - she wasn’t really planning on interrogating the woman or anything. “I know, don’t worry about it. Maybe I should have gone to med school, then,” she hums, causing Gabriel to snort into her coffee.

 

“I can’t say I recommend it, but it’s what I love. At the very least, we don’t risk getting shot every day, but god knows with this society nowadays,” she says, propping her elbow on the table and letting her chin nestle into her palm, watching as Michael slowly worked on her coffee. “Do you work out or anything? I hear that’s a good way to get rid of excess energy.”

 

Michael nods, exhaling. “Yeah. It’s been killing me going slow with the P.T.,” she says; she was used to heavy cardio and lifting routines, but now she was relegated to simple stretches, and even those felt like hell if she pushed herself too far.

 

Gabriel gives a small hum of understanding. “If I could heal you instantly, I would. Unfortunately I’m stuck wandering by while you sleep and making sure you don’t stop breathing on accident,” she says, her eyes wandering down Michael’s body, focusing on the thick padding that was obvious underneath her hospital gown.

 

Michael smirks. “Well, I appreciate it. Uriel would be buried in paperwork if I died,” she says, finishing off the dregs of her coffee. Gabriel motions to her cup, rising from her chair.

 

“I’ll get you some more,” she says, and Michael shakes her head.

 

“No - it’s okay, you've already spent too much on me as it is,” she says, but Gabriel takes the cup regardless, raising her brow.

 

“You’re gonna be paying us at least ten thousand just for sleeping here, three dollars for coffee is nothing.”

 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 

When Gabriel returns with more coffee, they continue chatting through the night - Michael was positive that the drugs were making her chattier, telling Gabriel all about her precinct, her partner, Uriel, her training days. Gabriel didn’t seem to mind, listening intently with her chin on her palm as she just watched her, eyes half lidded with what Michael was quick to assume was exhaustion. Michael doesn’t even realize when the sun starts to crack over the horizon, flooding the cafeteria with warm light; before she knows it, it’s nearly time for her release, and something in her is a little disappointed.

 

“I guess I should head back to my room,” she says, stifling a yawn as she peers at the cafeteria clock. She says this, but she continues to sit there - her IV drip was running low, and the dull ache at her side had gone from ‘dull’ to ‘deep', but she was content just… talking.

 

“I can get a wheelchair for you if you want,” Gabriel offers, but Michael shakes her head.

 

“I gotta walk - part of my therapy,” she says, sighing heavily as she tries to will herself to get to her feet. Gabriel smiles with amusement before she stands herself, moving over to Michael's seat and offering her hand.

 

“I can help at least, then. You’re on the fourth floor, right?” she asks, as Michael hesitantly takes her hand, slowly pulling herself to her feet.

 

And suddenly everything is _so much worse,_ she realizes, as pain rockets through her body from the wound at her side, and she barely manages to grip onto Gabriel’s arms before she lets out a shaky exhale. “Okay. Yeah. Help,” she breathes, as Gabriel slides one of her arms around her upper back, careful to keep Michael steady as she adjusts to the pain. It takes a minute, but she finally manages to straighten up, wincing slightly. “Sorry - you’re off the clock and everything,” she says to Gabriel, who helps her move forward, slowly walking alongside her as they head out of the cafeteria.

 

“Oh, please. It takes a special kind of asshole not to help someone in pain,” Gabriel says, and Michael can’t help but feel comforted by the warm hand pressing against her back, keeping her steady. “I’ll ask Dr. Raph to get you some more meds before you have to head out. I don’t want you passing out in the middle of your ride home. I can call a cab for you as well if you don’t have a ride,” she continues, nudging Michael gently as they get to a cross hallway, leading her to the elevators.

 

“...Thank you,” Michael says quietly, wondering if Gabriel was some kind of angel in disguise.

 

It’s a good five minutes of uneasy walking and a slow elevator ride before they make it back to Michael’s room, Gabriel never once leaving her side, helping her crawl back onto her bed and setting her IV back into its stationary position. As Michael slowly lifts her legs onto the bed, Gabriel presses some button on the wall and writes something down on one of the various papers that were scattered around Michael’s bedside table. “Dr. Raph should be here in a few minutes with a new bag, do you want me to get you some ice or anything?” she asks, and Michael shakes her head.

 

“Thank you. For uh, the coffee. And for hanging around,” she says, sinking into the mattress, not realizing how exhausted she’d grown in the past few hours. “When does your shift start?” she asks, and Gabriel looks at the clock.

 

“Um… ‘bout ten minutes,” she says, sighing quietly. “It’s rounds, so I’ll be in the general ward. I probably won’t be around when you leave.”

 

Michael’s face falls, just a little, but it was to be expected, she thinks. “That’s okay. You should go clock in,” she urges, watching as Gabriel moves to her window, lifting the blinds slightly, allowing some more natural light in.

 

“I will. I just wanna be sure you’re comfortable!” she hums, pausing and hovering as she realizes there’s not really any more she can do in the room. “...I guess I’ll head out, then,” she says, watching Michael for a moment.

 

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels delicate - and Michael is the first one to break it, shifting a little in her bed. “...Thank you again,” she says, giving Gabriel a small smile, a rare expression on her generally stoic face. Gabriel smiles in return, wandering over to her bedside again and scribbling something down on her paperwork, closing the folder and letting out a huff of air.

 

“Don’t read that paperwork until you’re out of here, okay? Code of conduct and all,” she says, watching as Michael’s brows furrow in confusion. “I’ll see you around, Mikey.”

 

Michael swallows, nodding. “See you. Don’t get in trouble, get out of here!” she says, making Gabriel’s lips crack into a smile before she heads out of the room, Michael staring at the doorway for a moment before letting her head fall back against her pillows, eyes closing.

 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 

She must have passed out- the next thing she knew, she was being gently shaken by Dr. Raphael, the pain in her side having ebbed away thanks to a new IV bag that she hadn’t noticed being replaced. She looks at the clock- it’s already hit seven, a full hour after she was set to leave the hospital.

 

It’s a quick process; she signs some documents, says her goodbyes to her doctors, and she’s wheeled out with a small bag of medication, paperwork, and hospital brand bandages, dropped off in the lobby of the hospital as she waits for Uriel to pick her up.

 

It’s a creeping sensation when she remembers her and Gabriel’s last conversation, her fingers twitching around the folder of hospital documents in her lap; she was technically checked out, right? She lets out a breath of air she didn’t realize she’d been holding as she opens the folder, flicking through the papers looking for - something, she didn’t know. And then she finds it, near the bottom of the pile - a light blue post it note, stuck to one of the various medication bills.

 

_Let’s meet for coffee again sometime? Maybe better than hospital sludge._

_xxx-xxx-xxxx_

_Gabby ♥_

 

Michael doesn’t even notice when Uriel shows up, her chest throbbing as she stares down at the little post it note, a small smile forcing itself onto her features.

**Author's Note:**

> more on the way, probably (?)


End file.
